


A Wolf Choking On Yellow Daisies

by AlphaWolfAl



Series: Al's Memories Of FFXV [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Al is back though y'all, M/M, Prompto cries so uh if that's sad to you you're gonna be sad, Prompto is the best little bean, Trans Male Character, but it's mid-stages of Hanahaki, hanahaki, he's sure trying, nothing too gross or graphic, self insert glaive boy returns, there's some blood in there, where the flowers start having blood on them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 19:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaWolfAl/pseuds/AlphaWolfAl
Summary: I have no right to feel this. I'm nobody to these men. But by The Six, Prompto is just such a good sweet man and I never claimed I had any sense of self-preservation.





	A Wolf Choking On Yellow Daisies

**Author's Note:**

> There will be three endings coming for this. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

The first time it happens it catches me off-gaurd. A cough and a single bright yellow daisy petal when he laughs at my joke.

I laugh and drop the petal to the ground with nobody else any the wiser.

I have no right to feel this. I'm nobody to these men. Just some soldier sent by the king.

A Glaive in name alone with Regis dead.

We've become friends, we've gotten close enough to touch, close enough to share a bed from time to time.

But by the six I have no right to love him. Not this way. Not when he's so painfully obviously in love with someone else. Not when I've been sharing a bed with one of his best friends.

But he's not the one coughing flower petals. He's just oblivious.

It takes time, so much time, so much growing closer and closer as a group, but eventually the dry choking sensation of coughing up flowers turns wet, and then the sound of my cough catches attention.

And /of course/ it's his attention. Soft, happy, sweet, Prompto.

His eyes dart straight to my hand, where the yellow petals cling, spattered with blood.

Soft blue eyes fly wide and he crouches at my side quickly. Gods why does he have to be such a good person?

“How long?” His voice is quiet, trembling, he puts a hand on my arm.

“Couple months...” My voice is rough, I cough again, more bright yellow petals, more blood. “Blood is new...”

His head snaps up, he checks the area, we are just far enough from the other guys to not be overheard.

Gods why did he have to follow me? Why did he have to see? Why couldn't I just suffer alone until it got so bad I collapsed. Why do I have to love him?

“Al... who is it?” He's that oblivious?

I spit out the last few petals. Then my crystal blue eyes look up into that soft sapphire. “Prom I....” Why is it so hard?

“Al what if he just doesn't know? Maybe we can change it! What if you tried, I-I don't know, going on a date or something?” He's talking so fast I can barely catch my breath before the sentiment registers with my brain and I'm choking on daisies again.

He grabs for my shoulder, and, in a reflex born of suffering, I shove his hand away.

The instant my airway is clear of blood and flowers I rasp sharply. “It's you! Prom by the fucking six who else would be yellow daisies?”

He stumbles back, first from the force of my shove, and then from my words.

“Al... I... are you sure?”

Another coughing fit. There's more blood this time. I hold up my hand. “Yea I'm pretty fucking sure.”

Tears well up in his eyes, he bites his lower lip and his hands shake. By the six he's even beautiful when he cries.

More coughing. More flowers. More blood.

Suddenly he's embracing me, he's sobbing into my shoulder, hands clutching at my shirt, his voice broken by moments of catching his breath.

“Al I... I'm so sorry... Gods I'm so sorry... Please... Please I want to... Please let me...” He can't say it. He can't actually say it.

I cough again, turning my head just in time to avoid getting it on him.

He lets out another sob. “I want to love you! Why can't I just love you?!”

His hands tighten on my shirt, he's shaking and sobbing and I just keep coughing, gods it's getting hard to breathe, I need to move away from him, I need to clear my head.

“Prom...” My voice barely comes out, my throat is raw, there's blood dripping from my mouth, staining blond facial hair red. “Please... give me... a minute...”

He jumps back, eyes read, tears staining his cheeks, mouth dropping open when he sees what I look like now, blood and flowers in my beard, eyes bloodshot from coughing.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Please... Let me try...” He does back up a bit. “I'll give you space but please... please let me try to love you...”

I nod, cough again, wet and sticky and by the six it hurts so much now.

He stands, goes back to the others. I can see Ignis flick his eyes to me the instant he sees Prom's face. The little blond always was a terrible actor.

Maybe I wasn't so good either. Something about Iggy's face tells me he already knew.

When I catch my breath, and clean the flowers from my beard, I drag a jagged stone over my mouth, cutting my lip, excusing the blood soaking into my goatee.

Just another thing for him to cry about when he sees it, just another thing that will make me suffocate on flowers.

But men like me are used to suffering. And men like me don't get happy endings.

There are worse ways to die than being in love.


End file.
